Monster
by Gingehfish
Summary: Greenfur of WindClan was a monster to her kits. But what will it take to reveal this to her and make her repent? Oneshot, written for ponyiowa's Leafbare challenge.


**Monster**

**[A/N: For ponyiowa (from WillowClan)'s newleaf challenge: **_**Newleaf was beginning, a time for rebirth, new life, and bright skies. The harsh leafbare was over.**_**]**

Greenfur yawned, stretching her long, agile body and scratching the ground. She was glad her kits had left the nursery; no one would call Greenfur heartless to her face, but she was. It wasn't _her_ fault that Brackentail had tricked her into falling in love with him, knocked her up, then gone off and died, but it had happened, and Greenfur's three rambunctious kits were a pain to the whole of WindClan.

Now they were apprentices, and out of Greenfur's pelt. As the black she-cat contemplated what she was going to do with her time, she heard a voice.

Not just any voice. _His_ voice. Brackentail's.

"_Greenfur."_

Startled, the green-eyed she-cat leapt to her paws, fur bristling. "Flowerheart! Did you hear that?"

Flowerheart, her former denmate and mother to two kits, looked puzzled as she replied, "What voice? I don't hear anything."

Greenfur's gaze flicked around the camp anxiously. Flowerheart hadn't heard him . . . maybe she had imagined it.

Then it came again, whispering.

"_Greenfur . . . Why . . ."_

Greenfur's fur stood on end. "Tell me you heard _that,"_ she spat at Flowerheart.

Her pale ginger friend looked at her worriedly and flinched at the venom in her voice. Greenfur felt bad, but now was not the time for apologies.

"Greenfur? Are you feeling all right?" the queen asked.

Greenfur closed her eyes, trying to communicate without words. _Brackentail? Are you trying to talk to me?_

_Yes, Greenfur. I need to speak with you, but not here._

_Where, then?_

_You'll see. . . ._

Suddenly, to the eyes of all the cats in the WindClan camp, Greenfur collapsed.

* * *

She woke in the scene of the battle where Brackentail died. Cats were fighting all around her, and Brackentail was fighting beside her.

Suddenly, the fighting stopped.

Brackentail leapt on her, screeching, "Greenfur! Greenfur! How could you _do_ this?"

Greenfur stared up at her former mate, shocked at his behavior. "How could I do what?"

"_You know what,"_ the ginger tom hissed. "You abandoned our kits and ruined their lives!"

"How?" Greenfur asked. "I nursed them and showed them the way of a warrior!"

"By crushing their hopes and dreams?" Brackentail asked, shaking his head mournfully. "That is not the way of a warrior, Greenfur my old friend."

Greenfur's eyes flashed as she wriggled out of Brackentail's grip.

"It was your fault! You knocked me up, made it so I had to give birth to those brats!"

"_My _fault!" Brackentail let out a guttural laugh that disturbed Greenfur for some reason. "That's the best excuse I've heard all day. No, Greenfur-we were mates. We were mates and we loved each other. Then I died, and you were left but a shell of your former self. You are not the cat I loved anymore, Greenfur. You are a monster."

Brackentail's words stung Greenfur, probably because they were true. She _had _ become a monster, caring little for her kits, less for her Clan, and mostly about herself. That was not the way of the warrior.

Still, the monster inside her was putting up a fight, not letting the kind she-cat she really was break through. Moorpaw, Swallowpaw, and Grasspaw were demons of destruction-Greenfur couldn't see why Brackentail cared about them, and she told him so.

He curled his lip, those handsome amber eyes cold. "You have become critical, Greenfur. You see only the worst in those 'paws. No, Greenfur, the blame lies squarely on your shoulders: If you had treated them better, they would not have been so unruly and hard to manage."

Greenfur's vision turned red with fury. She unsheathed her claws and raked them down Brackentail's shoulder. The ginger tom stared at her dispassionately. "Fate will show you I am right, Greenfur. Wake, now, and find your soul."

* * *

Greenfur woke in the medicine den. Peering over her was a brown tom-Hawkheart, the medicine cat apprentice, also her brother.

Hawkheart had been WindClan's fiercest warrior before his mentor, Littlewing, had announced to the Clan he was to be a medicine cat. She hadn't liked it-neither had Hawkheart-but who were they to deny StarClan?

_Who was she to deny StarClan?_

The momentous visit from Brackentail had been a message from StarClan: Repent or pay. Forgive or suffer. Return from the depths of her leaf-bare and embrace newleaf.

But how could she, when only Greenfur saw the truth of her kit's awfulness?

How could she deny the truth?

She couldn't.

Then she saw her kits peering over Hawkheart's shoulder anxiously.

"Is she awake?" Grasspaw whispered, green eyes wide. The smallest in her litter, he had always been nervous.

"Yes," Hawkheart grunted, "now leave! She doesn't want you pestering her."

"How would _you_ know?" rambunctious Moorpaw snarled. "You aren't even a proper medicine cat!"

Hawkheart swiped at the black tom, furious. "Get out or I will have to hurt you," he warned.

"We'd better go," Swallowpaw whispered urgently. She was the only she-cat of the trio.

"No." That voice came once again from Moorpaw. "I'm not letting him push me around anymore!" He leapt on Hawkheart with evil intent.

Greenfur watched, frozen in horror, as her brother sank his claws into her kit. Moorpaw struggled, but was unable to free himself as Hawkheart sunk his teeth into the amber-eyed tom's throat. He was trying to kill the apprentice!

Greenfur staggered to her feet. "Hawkheart!" she rasped. "What are you doing?"

As Moorpaw fell to the ground, limp, his siblings let out a wail.

"Moorpaw!" Grasspaw wailed. "Why aren't you awake?"

Greenfur bristled. "Hawkheart! You killed your Clanmate!"

Hawkheart snarled at her. "Yes, _sister._ I killed your kit. And if you breathe one word of this-any of you-you're all dead. Like him." He flicked his tail at the motionless form of Moorpaw.

Moorpaw. Oh, poor Moorpaw . . . The monster in Greenfur slithered away as she comforted her kits. "Swallowpaw, Grasspaw . . . I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me for acting this way?"

Startled, her kits looked up at her and shrank away. Greenfur could tell they believed the medicine cat's threat. Behind her, Hawkheart was smiling as he cried suddenly, "Oh, Greenfur, how _could_ you?"

As the cats of WindClan came rushing toward the medicine den, Greenfur saw what her brother was planning and leapt on him, screeching, "You killed my kit!"

Squirrelstar, the aging leader, limped up to Moorpaw's body. "Greenfur. You have done two grievous things today-killed your own kit and attacked a medicine cat. For this, you are banished from our Clan forever. Begone, Greenfur, and don't come back!"

Stunned by Hawkheart's treachery, Greenfur walked out of the camp, her former Clanmates giving her hostile looks.

_Brackenfur,_ she thought despairingly,_ you told me to see the light. I did. So why are you still punishing me?_

* * *

Twelve moons later, the life of a rogue was still not suiting Greenfur.

She made everyone call her Greenie, but her peace did not last. Something was missing: revenge on Hawkheart and Clan life.

For moons she had laid in wait, promising revenge on Hawkheart. Now at last was the time.

She crept into WindClan camp silently. No one noticed her. She crept into the medicine den and unsheathed her claws.

A growl sounded behind her. Hawkheart had been waiting.

"Greenfur, dear _sister_. How long it has been since our last meeting."

"Yes, _brother._ And this meeting will be our last, one way or another."

Silently as possible, the two cats engaged battle.

The next day, Greenfur was sitting in the clearing. "WindClan," she announced. "Home at last."

Heatherstar goggled at her. Her deputy, Talltail-he had been Tall_kit_ when she had left-snarled.

"Hawkheart is dead," she purred. "And the truth is now out. The leafbare of my life and this Clan's has left, to be replaced with a joyous time of newleaf. WindClan will prosper now."

Suddenly, the crowd parted. Two cats wove their way toward her.

"I am Grasstail," the smaller one mewed, "and this is Swallowfur. We forgive you, mother."

And as the family reunited, Greenfur could swear she heard a third voice, younger than the others, say, "It wasn't your fault. He is gone. Newleaf is here."

Moorpaw was right. Newleaf had come.


End file.
